


Someday...Maybe...

by azure_rosa



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angry Sex, Biting, M/M, Rough Sex, Wall Sex, button fetish
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-09-08
Updated: 2010-09-08
Packaged: 2017-11-11 23:14:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,626
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/483957
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/azure_rosa/pseuds/azure_rosa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Both present a false face to the world and face an inner struggle against their dark sides.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Remus' Perspective

**Author's Note:**

> AN: I hesitate to call this a story as there isn’t a true plot and there is only one line of dialog. More accurately it is a character study that tried to turn into a story with porn.  
> Beta: countesszero who remains the beta of awesome. All remaining mistakes are mine.  
> Disclaimer: If you think any of these characters are mine please tell me what world you live in so I can move there posthaste!  
> Warnings: at least mildly emo sounding bits, dark themes and a less than rose-tinted view of our boys, abuse of the word “dark” and derivatives thereof, almost more of a character study than a proper story.  
> Kinks: briefly mentions of a mild button fetish fantasy, but really I think most Severus lovers develop one so I doubt it will squick any of you, rough sex, biting, Wolfish Remus, wall frottage and submissive Snape. Is this an add or a warnings list? ;)  
> 

It was all Severus’ fault.

His infuriating grasp on his self control makes me so determined to shake it that I can’t help myself. I refuse to hurt him as my friends did while we were in school. I don’t have it in me to hurt anyone without sufficient cause, but what I can do is tease and embarrass him into reacting. He is magnificent when he is goaded into responding to me. I swear I’m addicted to the little glimpses of unmasked Severus I receive when I succeed. Is it really any surprise that we were metaphorically at each other’s throats while we both worked at Hogwarts? For all that people seemed to think I was the innocent victim of Severus’ wrath during my time there, truly, we were evenly matched.

I am, as I always have been and likely always will be, drawn to Severus despite the many reasons I should despise him. While I am not a dark wizard in the traditional sense I am a dark creature. I have fought and controlled my own inherent corruption since I was bitten with relative ease for the most part. Dark magic does not tempt me as the books all claim it should; it is of great interest to me but I refuse to touch it. No, my weakness is a recovered Dark Arts _junkie_. Like me he struggles daily with his corrupted soul but is still marked by it as only someone like me could possibly understand.

Severus, my corruptor and salvation all in one. My wolf whispers of sinful things to do to and with such a worthy mate. One who would not fear the darkness of my soul but embrace it and possibly even hunger for it as I long for his. How to reach him is a puzzle I cannot solve for all of my efforts. Yet each time I manage to crack his mask I feel a surge of satisfaction and lust for the darkness inside him and thoughts I see laid bare, if only for a moment. I fear I shall destroy him or myself if I persist but how can one stop such sweet torture?

Severus has no idea of the hunger he stirs in me, or is it the wolf that responds so strongly to him? I cannot truly tell though I would dearly love to lay all the blame at the feet of my condition. How easy it would be to claim I am only enthralled by this man because of the beast prowling through my blood, watching and waiting for the time it can act with impunity. I am not so foolish as to lie to myself as comforting as such a lie may be. It is not just his corrupted soul which whispers sweet promises of home and mate in the same breath as possession and satisfaction of my unspoken sinister desires that draw me to him.

No, my human side is just as enthralled with him as my wolf. He and I are two of a kind from stem to stern. Underneath our masks we are the same. I admire Severus’ strength; if I am so very drawn to the dark arts having never partaken of their divine pleasure and infinite damnation I can only imagine the struggle he mounts against himself on a daily basis. After all once one has tasted forbidden fruit and is damned forever why should one resist? Somehow Severus was strong enough to fight, a fact which gives me hope for my own fallen soul.

I cannot control myself around him as I can with any other. He seems to worm through my defenses even as I attempt to strip him of his own. Does he know how my soul calls for his? Can he possibly understand the effort I exert to maintain my control around him?

I nearly lost all of my control when he ousted me to the school. I think the only reason I did not snap and claim him fully was the interruption from Harry. I was torn between falling at his feet in thanks and ripping his throat out for denying me the satisfaction Severus’ smoky eyes promised.

Severus was relentless. It wasn’t enough for him to strip me of the best position I’d ever had, he had to follow me back to my office gloating all the way. I was maintaining my control as best I could by not looking at him and pretending it was really my choice to leave but I knew if I so much as glanced at him my fragile control would shatter in an instant. I was torn between finally letting myself react as he so clearly wanted me to and holding on to the tattered remains of my composure.

I had nearly managed to wrangle my anger back down below my mask where it belonged when he dropped his ace in the hole. “You know,” he said in that deliberate, casual tone reminiscent of Padfoot at his worst, “ _If_ your fanciful story the night before was true it was _your_ presence there which made everything fall apart, not _mine_.”

I had heard of people becoming so mad they claimed to see red before but for me this was a completely new experience. All the muscles in my body tensed involuntarily. If he was being just cruel and lying to make me feel guilty I could have handled that jibe; what made me react so badly was that it was completely true and we both knew it. My presence had been enough to destroy my fledgling hope to salvage part of my old pack and maybe even begin the process of rebuilding it. I don’t remember choosing to move but the next thing I knew I had Severus pinned to the rough stone wall and I was growling at him.

For once I was not thinking; I was working from reaction and nothing else. It felt so good to exert my will over my torturer, to revel in the feelings my actions triggered. I wanted so badly to claim Severus, assert my dominance over him but I restrained myself. I wanted him to submit to me of his own volition or not at all. He was immobilised from his wrists held in one of my hands firmly over his head down to his knees by my body crushing him to the stone wall.

I was in complete control and there was nothing he could do to escape my wrath. Severus is by no standard a weak man, but I held him against the cold, hard, stone wall with ease. My growl deepened as he struggled; the fool seemed to think he was a match for an enraged werewolf! He was soon disillusioned on that point; his vehement struggles and protests slowly tapered off and then finally stopped completely.

My growls softened as Severus gradually resigned himself to being trapped. His mask was crumbling as he realised he was caught in his own trap. His scent was heady and bursting with conflicting emotions. The fear I expected, but the sharp spike of desire surprised me. This was not a passing longing reminiscent of a youngster who catches a glimpse of their crush; no, this was a deeper and more sinister incarnation.

Severus’ yearning was overpowering and heady, like a fine wine. His desire was nearly a need instead of a mere want. My wolf howled its acceptance and reciprocation but I still managed to restrain myself by the very slimmest of margins. I would not take him unless he told me of his hunger; the world calls me monster but on that point I would not budge.

As if in reaction to that thought I watched as Severus slowly, ever so slowly, allowed his head to roll along the wall I had him pinned to stretching and exposing his pale neck to my gaze. Shock froze me briefly. Severus, one of the most proud men I had ever met was not only submitting to me, but doing so when we both knew he was aroused. I lowered my nose to his throat, scenting and savoring the surprised sound he made when my warm breath caressed his sensitive throat.

What caused the arousal I scented, his lack of control? I had occasionally speculated that Severus acted as he did because he _wanted_ to be forced by someone stronger to toe the line. Frustrated and unfulfilled subs have been known to act out in such a fashion to attract attention to their need. Severus is too proud to ask for what he wants; he has been denied by himself and others for so long it might not even occur to him to simply ask.

The very thought of Severus as my willing and willful sub drew forth from my chest a deep and pleased sounding growl which reverberated like a purr. The sound and feel made Severus moan and arch against me; no longer was he attempting to escape. Now he wanted closer.

I found myself more than willing to do closer.

My head dipped down to his neck. I took the liberty of exploring it thoroughly though not gently. I nipped and sucked on the entire length of his exposed throat in a less than gentle fashion, never breaking the skin but always with the threat of being able to if I so wished. As I had him in a one-handed hold my off hand was free to take advantage as he seemed to want. Following the theme that had worked for us so far I was not gentle. My hand roamed freely groping and rubbing possessively through his clothes as it traveled, much to Severus delight if his purposeful grinding against my leg, which he was somehow straddling now, and the delectable sounds he made were any indication.

I always had found his voice compelling since it had settled in its adult pitch but hearing it voicing his passion was glorious. It was rougher, less polished but somehow it only made every sound he made more beautiful. Even if I wasn’t physically enjoying our tryst I was sure the sounds he made alone would attract my lust and attention fully. If I had ever heard Severus make these sounds before I know I would have been unable to resist hearing them again. I felt compelled to draw more of those sounds from him. Yet another new addiction tied to Severus but one I have no scruples over satisfying.

I had not felt so consumed by lust since my first sexual encounter as a teen. There was no coherent thought, only more and skin. Why the man buttoned himself up like a medieval monk I never understood, but as a result I had developed quite the fetish for buttoned up Snape. I have had multiple full-blown fantasies about undoing all of those tiny buttons by hand while he jerked himself off, his strokes matching the torturously slow pace I set, pausing after each button to fondle, bite and kiss the newly exposed skin and anywhere else that struck my fancy. Sometimes I imagined binding him to my bed before I freed his cock from its confines and began the slow process of unbuttoning his robes, teasing him until he begged for me. Frequent detours to his obviously sensitive neck, brief visits with his eager shaft and finger play also featured rather heavily in my arsenal of ways I imagined driving Severus slowly insane with desire.

Unfortunately, even in my fantasies, Severus would became impatient and spell his robes off before I could finish properly. If I ever get the opportunity in reality I shall have to remember to swipe his wand first. As of now I did not have the patience nor the proper mindset to tease both of us in such a fashion no matter how much I wished it were otherwise. We both needed satisfaction years ago in school when this dance began; I could not stand to draw out our mutual torment any longer. Now we needed to slake our thirst for each other before our dance ended with our destruction.

So instead I tore his robe off of him. Buttons went in every conceivable direction, I was convinced the house elves would be finding them for years to come, but I finally had access to skin. In nothing but his undergarments, his boots and the tattered remains of his now open robe my tempter stood, still pinned to my office wall, with hungry eyes silently demanding more, always more of this treatment from me.

Despite, or perhaps because of my disrespectful treatment of his clothes, Severus became even more animated and desperate for completion. I was clawed at and bit in return, claimed in any way he could come up with, trying even now to tempt me further into this madness. I admit I needed little coaxing. His smell without his clothing in the way was divine, the fear still present but overpowered by his desire.

We were both too far gone and desperate for a true joining; I did not possess the control needed to even utter the preparation spells let alone prepare him manually. I was consumed by his hunger even as I devoured him in return. We burned for each other with an intensity I had never encountered before. It made me wonder if the legends of true mates for were-creatures were just myth or if there was in actuality a grain of truth to them.

Now was not the time for such thoughts, now I had a potential mate to satisfy. If he was even half as affected as I was then talking him into an encore or even a standing arrangement should be a breeze though I was taking no chances. I sought and found that magical spot on Severus’ neck that made him melt and teased it mercilessly while grinding against him as hard as we both could stand. So good yet not quite enough to fall over the edge; we were in a frenzy and yet despite our best efforts neither of us could peak. All our attempts just made us more desperate to finally come. I was so close I swore I could taste it.

Deciding frottage just was not doing the trick I took us both in hand with a bit of saliva and our natural lubrication. Squeezing our cocks together in my work roughened hands was beyond divine. Tight, warm and wet with a soundtrack of gorgeous sighs, moans and pants from Severus who seemed completely incapable of coherent speech. I bit that magical spot on his neck, looked into his smoky eyes and declared him mine. That was when it happened.

I saw the last of Severus’ mask shatter. It was like watching the birth of a star; beautiful and dangerous. His face glowed with the kind of happiness I never would have thought to see him experience, like everything in his world was finally, perfectly right. It was watching Severus finally come completely undone at my hands that finally tipped me over the edge. Moments later we collapsed against each other, finally sated.

I don’t know how long we were leaning against that wall and each other but finally our breathing slowed and our thoughts cleared. I watched him through it all. His face was still open and easy to read. Yet as I was watching I swore I could see pieces of his mask slowly sliding back into place. I wanted to scream my frustration. Was I already too late in speaking my mind and heart? He was hiding from me again. As I opened my mouth to speak I heard young Harry calling for me from the hallway leading to my office. I froze in indecision.

I peeled myself reluctantly off the man I hoped would consent to be my lover. I had been hired as a guide for Harry and he needed me now although I would have rather stayed with Severus. I excused myself as best I could under the circumstances and requested he stay so we could talk when I returned. I put on my mask, straightened my rumpled clothing and headed out to talk to Harry.

I kept our conversation as short as I could but when I returned it was to an empty room with the fire casting dream-like shadows upon the wall. I might have doubted the entire encounter if it wasn’t for the pleasant ache in my body and the buttons strewn across my room. I had lost him. Maybe someday he would allow himself to be caught.

Someday…maybe…


	2. Severus' Perspective

It was all Remus’ fault.

That immutable calm he radiates shall give me an aneurism one day. How someone can be so damn pleasant all the time I’ll never know. One of the few pleasures of my existence these days is attempting to break his precious self-control. I never succeed for long; his mask is nearly as flawless as my own, but the flashes of annoyance and other darker emotions only I can draw from him have become an addiction as potent as any dark magic or potion designed to ensnare the senses.

As a recovering addict of Dark magic one might think my lauded self-preservation instincts would kick in and warn me to avoid the temptation Remus poses to my control. His dark side calls so hauntingly to mine, I almost feel compelled at times. My mind manipulates me regarding Remus, it whispers of fulfillment of my addiction while still keeping the spirit of my word to Dumbledore. It promises I will receive everything I want and more if I give it just one more taste of the darkness I have shunned for so long. Not just any darkness, the darkness I see in Remus’ eyes when I have pushed him too far. The very darkness I find myself coveting more than anything while also reviling, my greatest desire and worst vice in one.

This idea my coworkers seem to have of Remus as some kind of angelic figure patiently putting up with my cruel jabs could not be much farther from the truth. Remus baits me mercilessly, I swear he knows exactly what he is doing to me and he revels in breaking my control as much as I do when the situation is reversed. We will destroy each other if this goes on much longer and I find myself yearning for that day as opposed to dreading it as I should. Someday soon one of us will push just a little too hard and the resulting loss of control I fear and crave in equal measures. What would he do to me when he finally loses his precious control completely? What would I do to him?

Would I drive him away, as my self-preservation demands, to protect myself or would I draw him to me, as close as two souls can get, and claim him as mine? To have unlimited access to his controlled darkness which is dangerous enough to satisfy my hunger but leashed enough to keep me from being consumed; what could be better? Satisfaction of this ache of longing after so many years - I dream of the rush of power and pleasure even now. How can I resist this temptation? Yet I must, I gave my word and I cannot protect the boy if I am ensnared in the corruption of my own soul once again.

The boy. It always comes back to that damned boy! I know not whether to curse him to the deepest depths of hell or exalt him unto the skies for interrupting at that exact moment. I was so close to surrendering, begging even for Remus to finally take me. It was an incredibly risky move on my part. I was compelled to increase the stakes in our struggle against each other. I knew I was winning after outing him to the school at breakfast. How could I not press my advantage?

After Remus stopped working here I would not have as many opportunities to break his control which I found unacceptable. I had come to crave the cracks in his mask nearly as much as the darkness he carried in his soul. I had to have just one more taste of his control wavering; the stronger the reaction the better, it would have to last me for at least a month and I needed more.

I goaded him with jeers about the loss of the first real position he’d had in years while simultaneously verbally abusing him for his part in the debacle of the night before on the walk to his office and during his packing. He was doing an admirable job of ignoring my jabs which pushed me to use my ace. “You know,” I said in my most causal yet mocking tone, “ _If_ your fanciful story the night before was true it was _your_ presence there which made everything fall apart, not _mine_.”

That froze him mid motion more efficiently than a Petrificus Totalus. Every muscle in Remus’ back tightened with my insinuation and I could actually see them twitch through his shirt as he tried to rein in his reaction to my cruel but truthful words. He had been ignoring my presence completely since I had approached him and I was suddenly, painfully aware of the lack of people in the area as classes had been canceled for the day.

In what seemed like the blink of an eye Remus’ control snapped. It was terrifying and glorious, just as I had always imagined. I found myself expertly pinned to the stone wall behind me by an irate, growling werewolf who had every reason to wish me harm. I felt truly alive for the first time in ages. Remus’ eyes seemed to burn with an inner fire which shocked and intrigued me in equal measures. I glared and struggled of course, I assumed so soon after the full Remus would be greatly weakened.

I assumed wrong.

Remus’ single handed grip on my wrists was like steel and I was incapable of moving them in any direction. I was pinned from my wrists over my head to my knees and for all that I wanted to fight to regain equal footing I _enjoyed_ being caught in his power. I slowly stopped struggling. It was impossible to escape and I realised I did not truly mind. My feelings became muddled.

I was getting exactly what I had wanted for so long, Remus out of control and acting on instinct, but what could I do with him? I found instead of satisfying my hunger, as I had hoped, it merely whetted my appetite. My desires which had been shoved to the back of my mind and ignored for so long suddenly surged to the forefront of my thoughts. I needed Remus further out of his comfort zone, preferably satisfying my own dark yearnings, but how to force the issue without my throat being ripped from me?

Perhaps a strategic retreat from aggressor to submissive would gain me time to regroup? My own mask was slipping I was sure. A brief look into Remus’ feral eyes revealed an immense anger and an equal hunger which made me suddenly glad to be crushed to the wall. His dark side was clearly reveling in his behavior. All I had to do was to reward the performance and he would become mine. Maybe if I appealed to the wolf I would be granted access to his darkness before he could regain his self control. The very thought caused a shudder of anticipation to course down my spine; fulfillment was in my reach at long last.

Frantic thought drew forth a vague memory of how hierarchy in a pack is established. The alpha squares off against the challenger and the loser of the fight submits by exposing their soft underbelly and throat.

I made eye contact with Remus to catch his attention and very slowly rolled my head along the wall to which I was pinned exposing my vulnerable throat to the softly growling werewolf. Remus’ soft but threatening growls suddenly fell silent. I forced myself to not look back at the werewolf for fear my gambit would fail.

I need not have worried.

Remus lowered his face to my vulnerable throat and began scenting me like an animal. His hot breath hit my sensitive throat, startling a pleased gasp from my lips. It felt like a caress and my neck has always been one of my few weaknesses. Maybe I could get him to bite me, oh that would be divine! I suddenly felt a vibration against my chest from his, as it grew in strength it slowly became audible. Remus was making a pleased sound that seemed a mix between a growl and a purr.

I was accepted and just maybe he hungered as I did! I would do anything for more contact that might lead to my desires finally being sated after over thirteen years of self denial. The sensation of his strong, hard body against my own and the mere idea of acquiring that which I hungered for was enough to make me arch and whine against my captor.

My response to him seemed to break the last vestiges of his control for the next thing I knew I was besieged with sensation on all fronts. He bit and sucked fiercely at my exposed neck, never quite breaking the skin but always _so_ close. I found myself hungering for each nip, wishing he would bite and then suck everywhere on my flesh, leaving his mark on me for everyone to see. I wanted to be his and for everyone to know that I had made both him and the wolf mine as well.

Somehow he knew about that spot under my right ear which everyone else seemed to miss. It made me melt and thrash in pleasure all at once. His spare hand took to roaming the peaks and valleys of my flesh through my clothes with a hunger no one else would expect from him. He groped and rubbed at me as if with each touch he was claiming the flesh in his hand as his own. How that thought affected me; I wanted to be owned by this man, possessed and dominated in any way he desired if only he would keep touching me.

How he managed to elicit such strong reactions from me through my clothing I have no idea. The thought of how much more intense his touch would be against my bare flesh was enough to make me writhe against his leg which somehow was between mine. Once I came to that realisation I unabashedly made the most of his leg’s placement, grinding against him like a bitch in heat.

As wonderful as finally having some control over my pleasure was it could never compare to how I felt when Remus began to grind against me in response to my fervor. Knowing I affected this normally reserved and polite man to the point he threw all of his restraint to the way side in a desperate bid to gain access to me was simultaneously frightening and enthralling.

My self-preservation instincts were screaming to run from this predator who could so easily hurt me. I feared if he left I would be even more broken than I was now but I was nearly as afraid he would stay. My traitorous subconscious had latched on to Remus as a lifeline of sorts. I had felt the need for another before and even thought myself at least wanted but never had I been needed in equal measure. The feeling of being needed as much by the one I needed was a novel one for me; somehow comforting and terrifying all at once.

The looks Remus kept shooting me made me tingle from head to toe. His obvious want of me went far to soothe my fears of being abandoned but the flares of heat I saw in his eyes made me curious. The lightest brush of Legilimency across his mind revealed a plethora of images, all of me, mostly naked and at Remus’ tender mercy. Fantasies of Remus stripping me at a torturously slow pace while I stroked myself; me bound to his bed, the wall or just bound and always he was there, teasing me into a sexual frenzy before finally satisfying my needs. In all of them I was willing and hungry for his touch as I am now, some mirrored my own desires so closely I was unsure if they originated in his mind or mine. As gloriously dark and rough as many of them were I could tell he had enough control to refrain from causing permanent harm to either of us though he clearly had no qualms about a bit of pain, given or received, with his pleasure.

As I ended my brief tour of Remus’ fantasies I realised he was not in the mood to torture either of us any longer. My hands were suddenly released and before I figured out what he was planning my robes were torn open. My numerous buttons popped off and flew everywhere from the force Remus put in acquiring access to my skin; I doubted I had ever been so aroused.

Remus freed me from my undergarments, opened his trousers and pants and then I was once again smothered by a hot, lusty werewolf. My eyes found his, trying to tell him how much I wanted and needed this without the words I was still afraid to use. My hands, finally free after their long captivity, set out immediately to explore my lover’s flesh. I groped and bit at him as he had earlier, trying to claim him as mine.

We were both desperate for satisfaction yet we seemed stuck in the moment leading up to it. We clawed, bit and ground against each other again and again as if the next time would finally knock us over the edge. Each time I thought my desire could not go any higher Remus would do something that wound me up even more; my whole body seemed to sing with pleasure but still I _needed_. I felt like nothing more than an unprotected nerve being stroked exactly the right way. My control was completely gone and I did not care. At that moment he could have asked me for anything and I would have done it without question so long as he let me find release at his hand.

Remus returned to that spot on my neck that made my knees weak. He teased it with barely there kisses suddenly followed by sharp bites and sucking as he ground against me. The man was clearly trying to drive me insane.

I nearly sobbed my frustration and denial when he pulled away from me again. He was instantly forgiven for abandoning me mere seconds later when he took us both firmly in hand. His strong hands were calloused from manual labor adding just a hint of rasp to the gloriously warm, wet and tight grip he had us in.

I urged him on incoherently with a series of undignified sounds. The pants and groans coming from Remus told me he was just as caught up as I. He lowered his face to my neck again and bit that lovely spot on my neck. His eyes latched on to mine and with a covetous gaze he announced I was his.

It was all too much; I shattered. I was fulfilled for the first time in over a decade; not merely satisfied but genuinely happy. I wanted that one moment of perfection never to end. We collapsed against each other, finally sated.

We were leaning heavily against that wall panting in each other’s arms for nearly fifteen minutes before we regained control of ourselves. Our breaths slowed, our thoughts cleared and I finally managed to pull my mask back where it belonged. I had not expected this to happen. Dreamed of it? Yes, but I never believed it would actually happen. I was at a loss. I wanted this to happen again; I wanted Remus to be mine. I needed him even now. I was terrified.

Remus opened his mouth as if to tell me something of grave import but suddenly froze. I felt him peel himself off of me with a profound sense of loss. He muttered something about hearing someone coming and that he wanted to speak to me before I left. With that his cordial mask clearly slid back into place, he fixed his clothes and headed out to his office. I heard him talking to the boy through the door but I was too caught up in my own thoughts to listen in.

Remus had engaged me after he lost control over his wolf, did he even really want me or was it all just to proclaim his dominance over me? As wonderful as it was I would not be used, even by him, to make a point.

If I wanted to keep my own mask in place I needed to retreat. I could not face Remus now; I was too vulnerable to resist my desires. He could bend me to his will with naught but a word and a gesture.

I gathered my torn clothing about me and flooed to my rooms, leaving only a multitude of buttons strewn everywhere in my wake, like odd tracks, the only evidence I had ever been there.  
I needed time to break his hold over me, but I would return.

Someday…maybe…


End file.
